Runaway Romance
by xbballbolin
Summary: Chuck had said, they're entitled to a trust fund, maybe a house in the Hamptons, a prescription drug problem but happiness doesn't seem to be on the menu. But is he as wrong about that as everything? Nate wants happiness… and he wants it with her.
1. Running Away

**Quick prep facts.  
>Set during season 1 finale. (1x18)<br>Nate wasn't fast enough to catch up to his dad.  
>AU overhaul after that.<br>Songfic styled chapter based of Running Away by Midnight Hour**

**Runaway Romance  
>by<br>S.R. Bolin**

Scribbled neatly on a single white sheet of paper are a series of words; words that he still couldn't quite comprehend the meaning of. So formal and precisely it's written that he vaguely wonders how many drafts they'd written and long they'd been planning. The tip of his coarse fingertip follows along the words carefully, following along to make sure he'd read it correctly. Surely, he was mistaken the first time. That's it. All the champagne at the reception was inhibiting his reading ability.

Or not.

Bright blue irises darken to an angry navy as his denial diminishes thanks to the words written right there in black and white. Anger swells deep within his gut and comes out in a fizzy explosion. Fists of fury slam into the tabletop before flipping the wooden console table across the room like it's weightless.

Sixteen year old Nate Archibald lets out a loud growl of frustration as he stands in the entryway of the only home he's ever known with tears burning the corner of flaxen lashes and his heart shattering. His own parents left him cold and alone without so much as talking to him. All the left was a note telling him it'd be okay and to go stay with his grandfather.

_Don't lie and say that it's OK.  
>It's alright here, there's nothing more to say.<em>

Closing his eyes, the saddened teenager transforms into a sad little boy. No. Not a sad little boy. If he were that sad little boy, his mother would be there to wipe his tears. They'd be there for him instead of abandoning him. Back then, his world was filled with infinite possibilities and nobody abandoned him. Not his parents. Chuck. Blair. Serena.

Why'd everyone leave him?

The question plagues his mind tainting it until his mother's words are dredged up from where he buried them.

Ann: It was your own rash actions that got us into this predicament.

_Don't tell me I'm the one to blame._

Fingers move through his shaggy mane and rest on the back of his head as he decides he's not the one to blame. Eyes scan around the entryway and for the first time in his life, home isn't home. Not anymore. With a deep sigh, he climbs the stairs to gather his things. His heart is as homeless as he has become. If they could run away then he can too.

_It's too late for you to make me stay.  
>No, I won't stay.<em>

His minds made up, already putting the Upper East Side in the rearview. Looking down at the hardened hands that grip the cool, metallic rail before him, Nate draws in a deep breath and expels a weary sigh. In just four short hours the sun would rise and he knew that getting as much distance as possible before then is key but he can't leave just yet. He'll give her a few more minutes to show. Knowing the feeling of waking up in the morning to find her gone without a warning damn near killed him, he refuses to do it to her.

Hearing the click clack of high heels nearing from the right he pushed his suitcase behind his legs and slowly lifts his head once they stop before him, eyes moving up the striking figure of Serena Van Der Woodsen until they met her eyes. Her eyes make the stars look dull by comparison. The shimmery halos of blue surrounding her pupils remind him of the halos angels wear atop their heads.

Come to think of it, if he were to look up the word angel in the dictionary, he would surely find the image of Serena Van Der Woodsen exactly as she appears before him in this very moment, her mere presence embodying every meaning of the word. Loose platinum blonde spirals of hair are perfectly sculpted to compliment her angelic face. Those lips are a taste of perfection, equally sensual and soft. Her tall slender figure has been kissed by the sun giving her a nice crisp tan complexion. She's a girl sweeter than heaven and hotter than hell.

Serena: Hey, Nate. I got your S.O.S. What's up?

Maybe it was all the liquid courage he'd consumed or how much he loved her. Whatever the case, Nate was giving all his secrets away starting today. Not wanting to allow any space between them, Nate descends the steps and takes her small hand into his. Their bodies face each other, close enough to touch and he could feel her tensing up. He hated when she did that, knowing that the Shepherd wedding made her so against being near to him.

Nate: Serena, I woke up the morning after I lost my virginity to find that the person I lost it to, the person I loved, had left town and not even said goodbye.  
>Serena: Nate, I—<p>

His finger moves to her lips, an effective way to silence her. The close proximity and his touch, why did it all feel like too much. Not even 10 hours ago, Dan dumped her. She couldn't handle this right now. She steps back ready to leave Nate in the dust. Running away always seemed to be her answer with him. He wouldn't let her this time. His hand catches her arm and pulls her back in.

Nate: No please, let me finish or I'll never get it out. It hurt like a knife to the gut and I can't stand the thought of you feeling that way or knowing I cause it. So I wanted to tell you I'm taking a chapter from your book and running away.

_And faster than you can follow me from this lonely place.  
>And farther than you can find me, I'm leaving<br>Yeah I'm leaving today._

A flash of hurt lit Serena's face before changing to absolute shock. _Running away? _It's then that she realizes the suitcase on the top of the steps. She's known Nate since they were five and he's been the golden boy, the most rebellious thing he did was smoke pot and play Xbox.

That's when she sees the tear stains on his cheeks and red rimmed eyes. Her hand wrenches away from his to his dismay but his heart soars when it moves to gently caress his cheek. As the soft pad of her thumb rubs gently at his cheek

Serena: Nate, talk to me. What was so bad that you want to run away?  
>Nate: Everyone leaves me. Blair left me for Chuck and vice versa. You left me for boarding school. And now my parents left me for Dominica. If you get to leave me then I should be able to leave you.<br>Serena: You're hurt. I get it but you can't just leave. You don't know how much you might regret it.  
>Nate: I didn't call you to get you to convince me to stay. I just wanted to give you the courtesy you never gave me. Goodbye Serena.<p>

Tears fill her eyes as Nate moves away from her touch to gather his bag and moves towards the curb wanting to make a clean get away. As his arm moves to hail a cab he feels disbelieving eyes drilling into him. Nobody could make him stay but the thunder in his heart and fire in his heart causes him to make another unexpected move… looking at all or nothing. As the cab pulls up, Nate turns abruptly towards the blonde with moisture burning in her eyes and pulls her into him.

Narrowed lips capture her in a frantic kiss crafted with passion and desperation. Hungrily his mouth suctions to hers and bursts of sweetness sends her head spinning. Hot, blazing heat consumes the deepest corners of his very soul. When they part the words escape his lips before he could even process them.

Nate: Come with me…

_I'm running away.  
>I'm leaving this place.<br>Yeah, I'm running away.  
>I'm running away.<em>

**So there you have it the first exciting installment of Runaway Romance (RR).  
>Any questions, comments, concerns, praises to be sung?<br>You know what to do… Review  
>(let me know if you want more)<strong>

**-S.R. Bolin**


	2. Beautiful Disaster

Runaway Romance  
>by<br>S.R. Bolin

**Chapter Two:  
>Beautiful Disaster<strong>

Tires blaze down the highway as it transforms from the glamorous city streets into an isolated paved highway. Colorful marques disappeared and traffic thinned until the newly acquired 2009 Mustang was the sole survivor. Fast and faster the sixteen year old speeds. A burning flash of black and white barrels down the highway set on finding home.

Green signs begin to appear along the highway with labels of towns unknown as it makes its way south. Every so often, tired eyes move off the road to steal quick glances at the blonde beside him looking out the window with a thousand mile stare. Her mind is a thousand miles away… or a couple hundred anyways. More specifically, her mind's in Manhattan.

By now Eric's awake reading her note on the kitchen counter if he hadn't already. Hopefully he'd understand because she wasn't entirely sure she did. All she really knew was he was leaving, quite possibly to never be seen again and the thought of life without him scared her more than leaving her heart vulnerable.

When coarse fingertips run across her hand, his fingers slip into hers, and he brings her hand up to his lips kissing it gently, a smile creeps onto her features and her eyes shift into the direction of Nate Archibald. He's handsome, devilishly so. With features chiseled like a finely-carved Michelangelo statue and hauntingly blue eyes that make the ocean seem dull by comparison, attractive is too feeble and inaccurate of a word.

Nate: You've been quiet, a very un-Serena like characteristic. What's been going on in that pretty little head of yours?

'Good question,' she thinks but instead smiles.

There're many different smiles worn by Serena Van Der Woodsen; smiles that Nate knows like the back of his hand. This one's forced, perfected by years of being in the limelight of society. It's his least favorite of them all. That's when it transformed before his very eyes into the believe-me-I'm-lying smile. He was wrong. That one was his least favorite.

Serena: Nothing, just a bit spacey.  
>Nate: You're lying.<p>

His eyes move fixated on the road ahead but that gleam of a smirk never fades.

Serena: Am not.  
>Nate: Are too. If there's anything the Upper East Side teaches us, it's how to call a bluff. (sighs) I'm not asking you to pour your heart out, give all your secrets away. Just, please, don't lie to me.<br>Serena: Okay.

For a brief period of time they continued down the highway; her blue irises narrowed in on him. There's something different about him; he's a beautiful disaster.

_He's soft to the touch  
>but frayed at the end.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Continue or not... that is the question.<em>

_REVIEW!_


	3. Realize

Warning: This chapter contains major roadtrip fluff.

Runaway Romance  
>by<br>S.R. Bolin  
>xXx<p>

Laughter spills out of the blonde bombshell's lips as Nate taps on the steering wheel and bellows out the lyrics to the Bon Jovi song ridiculously off key. Despite her laughter, she joins in holding her mouth up to her lips like a microphone

Nate: _Whooah, we're half way there  
>Living on a prayer<br>Take my hand and we'll make it- I swear  
>Living on a prayer.<em>

The boy couldn't carry a tune in a bucket but laughter is the best medicine and he healed all her wounds with a single song. Laughter explodes from the passenger seat as he mimics the high pitches in a ridiculous fashion. The more she laughs, the more he intentionally murders the song. By the end there's a massacre on his hands and a smile on her face that could've split it in two.

Serena: That was terrible.  
>Nate: What? You're crazy. That was a <em>perfect <em>rendition.

Despite the series of unfortunate events that brought them there, dimples dint both sides of his cheeks and laughter bubbles inside of him. She's sweet, addictive, and contagious- exactly what he needs. His gaze meets hers for a second, just one and their eyes go back towards the road just in time to see the sign.

Serena: Nate look, world's greatest pancakes in 10 miles!

After a long string of childlike begging, Nate gives in. Who could say no to Serena Van Der Woodsen; he certainly couldn't.

xXx

It was a quaint little café comprised of a large, open room and a walk up counter where an older woman with red tinted brunette locks and one of those waitress outfits that Nate thought were only used in the movies and on TV stood with a pen and order tablet at the ready.

Waitress: Hey there, what can I get for ya'll?  
>Nate: Yeah, we'd like some of those world's greatest pancakes we keep hearing so much about.<br>Serena: And two cups of coffee.  
>Waitress: Okay Hun, have a seat anywhere and I'll bring it right out.<br>N&S: Thank you.

They sit at a bistro styled table across from one another and his electric blue eyes had a particular sparkle to them he only gets when he's staring for. She doesn't know how beautiful she truly is to him. A smile she only uses when she's with him slips casually onto her face and she gives him a soft nudge.

Serena: You're staring.  
>Nate: No I'm not. I'm gazing.<br>Serena: (laughs lightly) It's the same thing.

He avidly shakes his head and joins her in a light chuckle.

Nate: No, staring implies stalkerish intent. Gazing… gazing is just more romantic.  
>Serena: (teasingly) Since when are you the hopeless romantic type?<br>Nate: Since I was five years old and the most loving, alive person I ever met asked me to be her prince.

The intimacy of his words is quickly betrayed by the interference of the waitress bringing them their coffee. After a polite but mumbled thanks, Nate watches Serena pouring packet upon packet of sugar and creamer into her coffee with laughter dancing across his features.

Nate: If you're trying to make coffee as sweet as you are, you're going to need a hell of a lot more sugar.

They drink their coffees and eat their pancakes like two kids in love without a care in the world, the way most people only dream they can be. Excusing himself, Nate goes to the bathroom, leaving Serena alone for the first time and immediately pulls her phone out sending her best friend Blair a text message.

_B. with N. Will call with details when get a chance. Love S. _

She didn't want Nate to know what was up her sleeve; that she wasn't actually running away with him but was just along for the ride hoping to get him back to Manhattan when he was thinking clearly. An unforeseen guilt weighs down her shoulders as she thinks of lying to Nate. Her eyes gently travel towards the bathroom upon thinking of him.

Waitress: You've got it bad, sug(ar).

The accent of the Cajun waitress shakes the blonde from her trance and eyes travel to the woman in her mid to late forties.

Serena: What? No, we're just-  
>Waitress: Honey, you can lie to yourself all you want but anyone with eyes could see that you two got somethin' special.<p>

Serena rests her hand on her cheek, placing her elbow on the table, in an attempt to mask the redness of her cheeks but accentuating her beaming smile and the way it dances in her eyes. Even Nate notices it when he returns and hands the woman a crisp hundred dollar bill to pay for their twenty some odd dollar meal.

Waitress: I'll be back with your change.  
>Nate: No, keep the change ma'am.<p>

Realizing the hesitance in her face, convinces Nate all the more to let her keep the change.

Nate: Please, I insist.  
>Waitress: Well, thank you, Sug(ar).<p>

Nate: (turning to Serena) Ready?  
>Serena: Yeah, let's go.<p>

She slips out of her seat and moves across the room with the model-like grace she possesses and to Nate's surprise, slips her hand into his like it was the most natural movement in the world. His eyes bulge in a disbelieving fashion but smiles none the less opening the car door for her when the get there and giving her a soft peck on the cheek before she slips into the vehicle.

Serena Van Der Woodsen was running away with him.  
>It was too good to be true… really.<p>

**You know what to do,  
>Review!<strong>

_**Elle:**__ Thank you for not only complimenting the story line but my writing style. As an aspiring novelist, you have no idea how much that means to me!_

_**Zukiwi:**__ It's a shame people give up on Serenate but don't worry. I'm not giving up just keep those reviews coming _

_**BikerChick101:**__ I managed to correct that error thank you so much for pointing it out. _

_**Mary:**__ Perfect? Thank you. I'll definitely continue. _


	4. You, Me, and the Bottle Make Three

Runaway Romance  
>by<br>S. R. Bolin

Hands grip the steering wheel tightly as he listens to the incessant vibrating coming from the Verizon cellular device. Not even twenty-four hours after their great escape, their presence- or at least the lack thereof- had a large majority of the UES buzzing. Word had even gotten to his grandfather, whose name currently lit up the screen.

Calling… Grandfather quickly followed by the image twenty-nine missed calls.

The entire Van Der Bilt clan was calling, searching for the missing teen but he couldn't bring himself to care. When it vibrates again, his foot jams on the break in the middle of the desolate stretch of highway and his hand finds the phone on the dash, clutching it tightly. This time the name is one he didn't think he'd ever see on his phone again.

Calling… MOM.

Unknowingly, he'd awoken a napping Serena but climbs out of the car before she can react. Leaning up against the car he takes a few deep breaths before sliding the phone open and pressing it to his ear.

Nate: Hello?  
>Anne: Nathaniel, thank God! You've had your father and I worried sick.<p>

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nate speaks in a crisp monotone that lacks the emotion currently coursing through him.

Nate: Obviously not worried enough to stick around.

Small puffs of air manage to slip in and out of his lips as cobalt irises scan the grassy expanse ahead. The silence on the other end is ended when he hears her sigh that disappointed sigh all UES parents seem to have mastered.

Anne: Don't act that, Nathaniel.  
>Nate: Like what, Mother?<br>Anne: Like a child.  
>Nate: I am a child! Your child or have you forgotten?<br>Anne: Nathaniel think rationally. Don't throw away your future.

His future had been written for him the moment he was conceived. The words his once beloved friend told him not too long ago echoe painstakingly loud in his mind: _'look easy Socrates, what were entitled to is a trust fund, maybe a house in the Hamptons, the prescription drug problem, but happiness does not seem to be on the menu.' _If he returned he'd have that to look forward to along with a political career like the rest of the Van Der Bilt men. That's his future she wants him to cling to like it's a life raft through treacherous seas.

Serena: Nate?

Nate turns to see the passenger door wide open and the blonde goddess that is Serena Van Der Woodsen leaning with her arms crossed over the roof of the car. It's in that moment that Nate Archibald decides to hell with that future. To hell with Chuck's sage words of wisdom. To hell with it all.

Nate: Actually, I see my future and you've got nothing to do with it.

The phone snaps shut in his hand and he casually tosses it over his shoulder without looking away from his blonde counterpart. Ocean blue eyes capture her in a rushing wave and the edge of his lip curls upwards into a smirk. Then he shoots a nod in the car's direction.

Nate: C'mon. We can hit the Carolinas by nightfall

_xXx_

Amber liquid swirls within the plain glass, bubbling with warm aroma as it's poured. The alias of Charles Fitzwilliam- a fake ID of Chuck's creation, was to thank for the bottle of Captain and the honeymoon suite of some no name hotel. Bringing the glass to his lips, the liquid slides smoothly down his throat and places that all too familiar burn in his chest.

Blue eyes shine greedily as he pours himself another glass, then another, and another. By the time the sound of the running shower ceases, he'd successfully torn through a little over half the bottle and slipped it in the minifridge in a halfhearted attempt to hide his binge drinking from his blonde counterpart. He then slips out of his blue V-neck tee and casually casts it aside before taking his bag from the floor and setting it atop the dresser. Rummaging through, Nate dredges up a pair of grey Hollister sweatpants and slips into them before embedding white headphone speakers into his ears and plopping down on the couch.

Long arms stretch up before slipping behind his head and he holds this position until Serena emerges from the bathroom and sits on the edge of the couch gently nudging his shoulder. Sparkling blue eyes snap open to meet the blonde bombshell's. Thumb and index fingers remove the speaker from his ear and his lips curl upward into a smile.

Nate: Hey.  
>Serena: Hey.<p>

Nate slips into the upright position beside Serena and kisses her temple before making it to his feet and placing his iPod back into his bag and leaning against the dresser.

Serena: You look like shit.  
>Nate: Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.<br>Serena: I meant, when's the last time you slept?  
>Nate: (thinking hard) Thirty-nine hours ago.<p>

Shimmering pools of blue look to him in concern as she pulls herself off of the couch, over to him, and slipping her hand into his.

Serena: C'mon Nate, let's get you to bed.  
>Nate: Alright, I'll make up the couch.<br>Serena: Don't be an idiot.

Wordlessly, Nate follows Serena over to the bed and lays down atop the covers and she fits perfectly into his side, resting her head on his shoulder and arm across her chest.

Serena: G'night, Natie.  
>Nate: Sweet dreams, Serena.<p>

_xXx_


End file.
